When Ironhide Met Chromia
by Retired 5.01.2012
Summary: A series of oneshots describing seperate stages in their strange relationship. IronhideXChromia but of course, OptimusXElita. The rating will eventually go up. :D
1. Part One: The Meeting

When Ironhide Met Chromia

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Transformers related.

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It had been a simply stunning day in Iacon. Ironhide had just gotten off of his shift, working under the soon-to-be Prime. The aforementioned soon-to-be-Prime was currently walking beside him, talking about something. Ironhide merely grunted, thinking about the sweet, sweet high grade waiting for him in one of the bars. He heard soft laughter and it immediately captured his rather short attention span.

A few dozen yards, directly in front of him, sat the epitome of beauty. Ironhide could barely get his filters to work. Sunlight from Cybertron's twin suns glinted off of her smooth frame, making his jaw drop. He let his optics rove over her frame where it finally settled on the Autobot marking just underneath the swell of her chassis. He gulped as she laughed, the soft sound pure bliss to his audios. She cradled a rather powerful looking rifle under her arm and it was then that Ironhide knew. This femme was his spark mate. 

"Ironhide, have you been listening to a word I've said," Optimus asked, looking vaguely annoyed. Ironhide only made a strange choking noise and Optimus followed Ironhide's gaze. There, beside a blue femme, sat a pink one. Elita One. Optimus felt his mouth go dry at the mere sight of the femme captain.

He had harbored a crush on her for a long time. The day they met, he knew the pink femme would always have a special spot in his spark.

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"Chromia, there's another one checking you out," Elita said, giving no indication of having noticed both gaping males. Chromia only laughed and shrugged the comment off, more intent on talking about the brand new rifle she'd gotten. She shifted on the stone bench where they sat, gently trying to steer the topic away from the males to the rifle she'd gotten. Then she realized that her friend wasn't going to say a word about the rifle. She was too distracted by the approaching Optimus.

"Optimus is checkin' you out, girlie," Chromia said slyly, nudging Elita softly. Elita only blushed and shot Optimus a shy look. Their optics met and they both blushed slightly. Chromia stored this little bit of information away, just in case.

"Oh, here they come," Chromia said rather grumpily, as the males approached. Elita only laughed nervously, asking in hushed tones if she looked okay.

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"Let's go introduce ourselves," Optimus said, nudging Ironhide toward the femmes. Ironhide gulped as they approached the females, who were starting to shoot them appreciative and curious looks. Optimus started walking tall, his chest puffed out. The femmes started giggling madly at this display, and Optimus took this as a good sign. He was the perfect picture of mechliness.

Except Elita and Chromia didn't think so.

"He looks like someone rammed a pipe up his-"

"Finish that and I will slap you," Elita said, looking thoroughly scandalized.

"What? It's true," Chromia said, giggling and lounging back on the stone bench. She held the rifle a bit closer to her body, gently caressing the smooth metal of the butt of the rifle. Ironhide nearly died at this display, his processing unit conjuring up images of her hands caressing something else on his body.

"Watch this," Chromia suddenly said, grinning mischievously at Elita. Elita's interest and curiosity were piqued. Chromia looked down shyly at her lap and bit her lower lip. Elita suddenly realized what Chromia was doing – she was using her almost-famous disarming shy-smile, sudden-smirk, and wink routine. Primus only knew what effect it would have on Ironhide. He was obviously entranced by the femme.

Their footsteps rang out over the cobblestone streets, both mechs chatting amiably. They were about halfway to the place where the femmes were sitting. Chromia looked up shyly at Ironhide and looked away quickly, a slight blush gracing her cheek plates. Elita almost snorted at the look on Ironhide's face. He looked like he was about to scoop Chromia up, whisk her away, and do lots of immoral things to her. Chromia gave him another shy glance. This time, she smirked at him…and gave him a slow wink, blowing a kiss at him.

In Ironhide's entranced and dazed state, he did not notice the staircase in front of him. Now, the plaza that the femmes were sitting in was a portion of street that jutted out over the river. It was set off from the shops and river below by a set of stairs. Ironhide just so happened to be on a collision course with the stair case.

Ironhide felt the ground disappear from beneath him and the only thought that went through his processing unit was "Oh, slag". He tripped and fell down the stairs, nearly squishing a smaller femme on the stairs. Optimus gasped and ran after his friend. Ironhide lay at the bottom of the stair, thoroughly dazed. Optimus knelt beside Ironhide.

"Are you okay? Is anything broken?"

"Primus…she's beautiful," he said goofily, smiling up at the sky. Elita and Chromia raced over. Chromia honestly felt badly about the incident. She didn't know he was going to go tumbling down the staircase like an aft-headed idiot. The stupid mech probably needed a sparkling-sitter…

Elita knelt beside Ironhide, trying to assess the damage. She clucked softly as she took in a few jostled wires and three displaced gears in his shoulder, along with a pulled arm cable.

"Optimus, do you think you could call a medic down here," she asked softly, meeting his optics for the briefest second. He nodded mutely, his spark singing in joy. Elita knew his name! Chromia sighed gently, placing her rifle on her back.

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Ironhide was discharged from the hospital the same day, with a stern warning not to go near any staircases. Optimus almost felt badly for his friend – the normally proud mech was slinking around like a kicked robo-puppy. Elita and Chromia had approached them afterwards and Ironhide had turned tail and walked away. Stopping close by Optimus, Elita looked up and asked softly, "What's wrong with him?"

"His ego is still bruised," Optimus said, rumbling with laughter.

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"This is ridiculous, Ironhide. You can't run away forever," Optimus said, crossing his arms at his friend. The mech only glared up at Optimus, using a rather rude gesture. Optimus only sighed and leaned on the door jamb. It had been _four slaggin'_ solar cycles already.

"I could always change my name and alt mode and go to a different planet," Ironhide said thoughtfully, stroking his chin. He shifted from his spot on the floor. He'd been trying to reach a spare part under his berth but had failed spectacularly.

"Ironhide, be a mech and take it like one," Optimus finally said, throwing his hands into the air and glaring down at Ironhide. It was a very intense glare. Now, Optimus was upset. Chromia and Elita were inseparable. Elita had insisted that Chromia come along, and the poor femme had sat in the corner of the booth by herself while Optimus and Elita danced.

"You didn't go and trip and fall down a flight of stairs in front of the femme of your dreams, did you?" Ironhide said, flopping back onto his floor with a thud.

"Since when is she the femme of your dreams, Ironhide?!"

"Since the second I saw her carrying that rifle," he said dreamily, his processing unit wandering back to the cherished memory. Optimus only groaned and smacked his face into the palm of his hand.

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Heehee! Should I continue??


	2. Part Two: The First Date

When Ironhide met Chromia

Optimus and Elita

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers in any way, shape, or form.

Just a note: The reason they are so OOC is because they are still quite young. Optimus hasn't been instated as Prime yet, Ironhide is finishing up advanced training at the academy (the equivalent of college), Elita is a cadet in the femme commander's ranks, and Chromia has just graduated the academy and landed a nice cushy desk job.

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"Oh, come on, Chromia. I don't want to go out with him by myself. We're not even dating! He even invited you to come along. Plus, Ironhide will be there," Elita said, without pausing once.

She was digging around under her recharge berth for her large crate of polishing wax. While femmes on Cybertron had no need for jewelry or things like that, they still enjoyed their 'girly' moments, if it could even be called that. Most of the Cybertronians had olfactory receptors, which could differentiate between pleasing scents and not so pleasing ones. The current craze in Cybertron was organic, imported botanical materials. The scent of which, was to be integrated into everything.

Elita, being the more "feminine" of the two, elected to buy the good smelling stuff. Chromia saw no need to smell like flowers or whatever the slag it was they put in the wax, so she didn't use it or care for it. However, Elita had different plans for Chromia and her wayward, tomboy-ish manner of acting.

"Elita, you can't be serious. I don't want to go then!"

"Please, Chromia? He really likes you – give him a chance!"

"That's even more incentive for me _not_ to go!"

"Chromia, he's a good mech…please, for me?" Elita had resorted to begging, something that never happened. Chromia shuttered her optics and let out a puff of air, something much like a sigh. The sight of her oldest and dearest friend sitting on the floor, _begging_ was a new concept.

"Fine, Elita, but he tries anything at all and I will shove the business end of my gun up-"

"Splendid! Let's go get ready!" Elita squealed, grabbing her friend and a handful of credits from her storage unit. Chromia only groaned – she hated getting all pretty for a date. Who wanted to do that, anyway, when they could have gone shooting?

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"How about this one?" Elita shoved the tin of wax under Chromia's olfactory receptors.

"Yuck – it smells like a mech…fresh off the sparring field!"

"Eww, Chromia! I don't even want to know!"

"You know I do spar with them, right?"

"I said I didn't want to know! Here."

Another tin of wax was shoved under her nasal plate. Chromia let out a groan and stared around the supplies facility. They'd been here for two hours already, sniffing cans of wax! Why was it so hard to settle on one? The mech behind the counter gave her an amused look before tending to another femme. Chromia obliged and sniffed the tin.

"Mm, that one smells good."

"It's the stuff with the imported flowers."

"Well, grab it and let's go."

"What about you? You can't show up looking like _that._"

"What do you mean, 'like _that_'?!"

"You're all scuffed and scratched up, there are scorch marks all over your arms – I've told you not to go to the firing range so often! - And you're all dusty! You're getting a good wax, even if I have to pick it out myself," Elita said, walking around her friend and appraising her appearance. Chromia growled just a little bit, deep in her throat.

"I don't-"

The glare on Elita's face was acidic enough to melt through steel. Chromia then decided that it would be best if she complied.

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Chromia had finally settled on a scent. It was flowery but subdued, with a tiny bit of oily musk at the end. Elita approved of it and then dragged her friend back to their shared apartment and commenced getting ready for the night.

"But, Elita-"

"Chromia, get your aft in the shower or else I will hose you down myself," Elita growled, a scary glint in her optic. Chromia obeyed. Her friend was beyond reasoning with when she was on a mission…especially when it involved mechs. Primus, this was why she rarely dated.

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"See? That wasn't too hard, was it," cooed Elita from her corner of the apartment. Chromia only growled and took the tin of polishing wax from her friend, giving herself a good shine. Then, when Elita wasn't looking, she packed her rifle, subspacing it in one of the compartments in her legs. Chromia then pretended she was checking herself for scratches before grabbing her other weapons, just in case Elita was watching.

Twin daggers were housed in the compartments of her wrists and extra ammunition in her other leg. Excellent. Elita turned at the low chuckle that escaped Chromia's vocal processors. The only time she'd ever heard her friend chuckle like that was when she was out shooting things.

Chromia caught her staring at her and shot Elita the most innocent look she could, her optics wide. One optic ridge went up. Innocence did not go well with Chromia.

"What are you laughing about?"

"Nothing…"

Elita shot her a suspicious look before turning her gaze to the large mirror in front of her. No scratches, scuff marks, or dust. She shone brilliantly, her armor having been polished. Good. Chromia was standing by the door, her hands clasped behind her back, and a sweet little smile on her face.

Elita was going to have to keep an optic on her.

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Chromia let out a long, low whistle as they arrived to the date site. It was a rather well known and _expensive_ restaurant. There was a line of mechs and femmes in front, waiting to see if they could cash in on their reservations. Although it was a large restaurant, it was quite difficult for an opening – especially on weekends. It had a two year waiting list, for Primus's sake, and that was _if_ they could open a table!

"_The_ Three Palms? Girl, he must really want to get in your armor-ow!" Chromia rubbed sheepishly at her arm joint, where Elita put a nice ding.

"I don't know if this is the place – look for the guys," Elita said worriedly, starting to panic. Was he ditching her? Trying to embarrass her? Why hadn't he said something about this expensive restaurant?! She would have tried to look nicer.

"Ugh. They're here. Calm down. You look like you're about to blow a gasket."

"You know how expensive this place is?! One cube of oil is more than our _rent_."

"And? They're the ones paying, right?"

"Yes…hehehe. I_ knew_ there was a reason I've kept you for so long," Elita said, grinning at her friend's fake-wounded look. Then Chromia grinned coyly, placing her hand on her hip as she spoke.

"That really stung," Chromia said, the other hand over her spark.

"Anyway, Chromia, like I was saying, you need to behave. I think I see the Commander. Oh, Primus, it _is_ the Commander. Oh slag. Oh. Slagslagslag." Elita was starting to panic. Chromia snickered when her friend's cooling systems shot up to a dull whine.

Her commander was there, the current Prime was there, and so were the most respected mechs and femmes in Cybertron. Oh, Primus.

"Babe. Head up. Back straight. Nasal plate in the air. You'll be fine," Chromia said, slapping her friend on the shoulder. Chromia then took the aforementioned stance, walking toward the mechs. Elita only stared – who knew that Chromia could ever look or act so gracefully? Chromia's movements were elegant and refined. Her back was straight and she carried herself like a queen. Her hips swayed gently from side to side: not too showy but just enough to entrance a few mechs.

Elita followed her friend, mimicking her actions and movements.

"Keep your voice low, your head high, and don't make eye contact with anyone unless they come up to you. Wait for them to introduce themselves and then acknowledge their presence," Chromia said softly, her optics roving over the crowd of brightly polished mechs and femmes in front of her. Prime and Ironhide were both standing off to the side, looking highly uncomfortable.

Optimus extended his hand to Elita and she placed hers in his. He bent and kissed it, giving her a shy smile. Chromia inclined her head in Ironhide's direction, barely acknowledging him. Ironhide's spark fell and he drooped slightly.

"How are you this evening," Optimus asked formally, extending his arm to Elita. She took it and blushed again, her cheek plates even redder than before.

"I'm fine, thank you." She wasn't too sure how to respond to something so formal, but…whatever. She was dining at one of the most exclusive restaurants! With a handsome mech!

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The meal was quiet and intimate – they had scored one of the private, outdoor tables. They were like balconies, except much more spacious. They had gotten a wonderful view of the city lights. Elita and Optimus were sitting together, talking and giggling quietly, while Ironhide and Chromia sat on the other side of the table, the both of them picking at their cubes of highly refined oil. Chromia sighed softly and pushed her cube away, gazing at her friend. Elita was so happy. All of the stresses of her being a cadet were gone. All of her worries – forking over her half of the rent, finishing her major in history, and fighting off mechs with sticks were all gone.

"So, Chromia," Ironhide said quietly, staring off over the city.

"Yes," she asked quietly, folding her arms over her chest. He may have been annoying and thicker than a brick, but she was in one of the most highly sought after locations in Cybertron…she may as well try to enjoy her company.

"What kind of rifle was that? The one that you had when…I…ah…." Poor Ironhide blushed and tried to look unaffected by his own statement.

"It was one that I designed myself," she stated, giving him a pity filled smile. Primus, that was embarrassing. Ironhide had tripped and fallen down the stairs…in front of the current Prime! Slag. He had that dreamy smile on his face again…

"Live rounds or energy rounds?"

"Both – once it runs out of trilithium, armor piercing rounds, it'll fire acid pellets. Once I'm finished with those, I can switch over to my energy reserves," Chromia said, her thoughts straying back to her special rifle. Ironhide looked like a sparkling in an energon candy store.

"Really, how'd you compensate for the recoil action?"

"Easy – manual spring override. Once I'm finished with live rounds, I manually switch over to a magnetic shock absorber."

"What kind of casing does it have? Is it high heat resistant or is it low conduction?"

"I have it with me, if you'd like to see it," Chromia said, a guilty smile on her face. Ironhide only chuckled.

"What, were you planning on shooting me?" he asked, a smile on his face. Chromia only let out a short bark of laughter before trying to steer the conversation back to the magnetic coil adaptor. Ironhide's face fell and he sighed gently before smiling sadly at her.

"You really don't like me, do you?"

Chromia didn't answer. She only fidgeted, trying to come up with a nicer way to gently let the mech down, but fell silent as he stood up. What was he doing?

"I…I have to go. Oi, Prime, here's my half of the tab. I've got an emergency," Ironhide said, tossing a large sack of credits onto the table. With that, he was gone. The look of disappointment and sadness that Elita shot her was enough to make even Chromia feel guilty.

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D'awww…poor Ironhide needs a hug. :(


	3. Part Three: The Fight

When Ironhide Met Chromia: Chapter Three

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

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"WHAT?! What the slag do you mean? WHY?!?"

"Chromia, calm your processes. We both decided that it would be best."

"But-but…you _like_ him!"

"You're the only family I have left, Chromia. Ironhide is like a brother to Optimus. I can't date someone if my sister hates his brother," Elita said, a small smile on her face.

"No, like slag you're going to do that, Elita! You're going to go right back up there and tell him that you lost your processes for a minute!"

"No, Chromia, it's fine. Really."

"I'll go do it myself, then," Chromia snapped, turning and leaving her friend's small office.

"Wait-"

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"Optimus, there's a femme here to see you," a receptionist said politely.

"Tell her to come in," Optimus said, surprised. Then he resumed staring out of the window at the bright sunlight that flooded Cybertron. It couldn't be Elita, she'd just been in there less than half an hour ago. Who else would it be? An adoring member of his fan club? Primus. He shuddered at that thought. He had a _fan club_. Full of gorgeous femmes…all with a loose chip somewhere.

He was startled to see Chromia enter his office, with a murderous look in her optic. He cringed – he learned quite early in his life not to anger a femme. Mechs, things, and buildings usually ended up in pieces afterwards.

"Chromia, how are you?"

"We need to have a chat. Elita just told me the most interesting story that the two of you have decided to call it off because I don't like Ironhide. Is this true?"

"Yes?"

"Go and fix things with her. I don't care if I have to put up with Ironhide for the rest of eternity – you and her are perfect for each other," Chromia said, pointing at the door. When he didn't move she spoke again.

"Or do I have to drag you down there?"

She ended up having to drag him halfway down the building. They were spared the rest of the trip as Elita rounded the corner, intent on seeing what her friend was doing.

"Chromia, what are you doing to him?!"

"The same thing I told you – I don't care about Ironhide! I just want the both of you to bee happy. If it's any consolation, I'll even try to be nice," Chromia said, grumpily. Then she pushed them together and walked off. Elita was clearly in love with the mech. He was clearly in love with her. Seeing that kind of happiness in her friend was more than Chromia could ask for. She could deal with the annoying mech.

Elita threw her arms around Optimus.

"That was her way of giving us her blessing," Elita said, a small smile on her face. Optimus laughed softly, a gentle rumble reverberating through his armor. Elita buried her face into his armor, her hand on his chest plates. Optimus wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on hers.

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Chromia fled the office building – she was off shift for the weekend anyway. They could deal with it. She wandered around the plaza, peering into windows. She bought an energon treat from a stand, nibbling on the chilled cube. Then she saw the botanical garden that had been imported. She checked her wrist compartment – only five measly credits. How much was it to go in, again? She hadn't been inside in what seemed forever.

It was exactly five credits to go in. She gave the mech in the booth her money and took the ticket, and strolled into the green house. It was hot inside and startlingly humid. She hissed in annoyance as her cold frame started to condensate the water in the air. All sorts of alien plants peeked up at her. Rich green leafy vegetation covered the ground. Tall trees covered in vines and flowers blocked out the twin suns in the sky above her. She shivered as the air suddenly turned cool.

She sat on one of the benches along the path, eating the last of her chilled treat. One of the resident alien creatures flew by. It was an interesting creature – its body was long and soft. It had six pairs of iridescent wings, each pair fluttering in cadence with another. Another one of the creatures flew by. Chromia leaned back on her hands and watched them hover above a small plant.

A different creature flew by this time. Its body was small and round like a marble, covered in spikes. It had a pair of large wings. Chromia only watched as they fluttered around the main water source of the complex. It was a fountain with little troughs for water to spread outward toward the plant areas.

_Why would Elita even consider something like that? Does she really consider me family? Why would she give up her happiness for me? I'm a rotten femme – I shoot mechs that harass me, I don't date, and I pretty much shun all mech contact. Why on Cybertron would Ironhide even consider me? I...I guess I should be nice. I should try really hard to be nice. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if they broke up because of me._

It was getting late, she decided, and she needed to stop being so depressing. The first sun had already sunk over the horizon, meaning that the other would follow in two hours. She sighed – it would take an hour to walk back to her apartment. She couldn't afford a taxi...maybe she shouldn't have bought that energon lolly…

So, sighing, she made her way back to the entrance and left, walking slowly. She peered into windows as she went by, admiring decorative fabrics for dance recitals and supplies. The street was long and narrow and full of bustling femmes and mechs, all intent on reaching their homes. Chromia then stopped by a dance school. Young mechs and femmes alike were practicing, their footsteps in perfect cadence as they swung each other around. She watched for a minute or two before remembering that she had work to do at home.

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Two hours later (she had stopped to watch a band perform) she trudged up the stairs to the apartment she and Elita shared. Typing in her code, she hauled herself past the door panel and into the room and past the book cases. She stretched and walked into the living room…where Elita, Optimus, and Ironhide sat, talking and laughing. Elita sat on the couch and the two mechs in arm chairs.

"Scoot over," Chromia grumbled down at Elita, shooing her over. Once Elita had cursed at her and moved her legs, Chromia then flopped onto the couch quite ungracefully. She groaned and threw her arm over her optics, heaving a massive sigh.

"Why are you so whiny," Elita shot at her friend, kicking her gently in the aft, "You're taking up the entire couch!"

"I had to walk here from the plaza…"

"You had money this morning!"

"I went to the botanical garden…and I bought an energon lolly," she admitted sheepishly, pulling her legs against herself. Elita only sighed and shook her head, a devious little smile on her face. She winked at Optimus and began to speak.

"You know those things will clog your-"

"One more word, femme, just one more word, and you'll find yourself in the hospital asking for a new face," Chromia growled, holding her fist up at Elita. Elita only laughed. Ironhide looked extremely uncomfortable. He shot several looks over at Optimus – ah, it seemed that femmes weren't the only ones that could communicate using looks. Of course, Chromia interpreted what they expressed in a matter of astroseconds.

"Leave and you'll join Elita in the hospital," she said, her tone colored by amusement. Ironhide only stared at her blankly for a second.

"So, 'Lita, what are we doing tomorrow, since it's our day off?"

"Actually…Optimus and I were going to go to the zoo," Elita admitted sheepishly. Chromia grinned at her friend, shooting her an amused look. Elita only looked scandalized and glared at her.

"Alright, I guess I can stay here…and do work…" Here she shuddered, as though it would kill her to get some work done. Then she brightened as a thought crossed her computing center. A smirk joined the glint in her optic. Elita was instantly wary.

"Oooor…" She managed to turn a one syllable word into a two syllable one.

"What?" The others in the room were cautious.

"I could go shooting. That sounds like fun. Wanna go, Ironhide?" Chromia suddenly asked, looking over at him hopefully. He nodded, too shocked to say otherwise.

"Sweet. I'm going to go and recharge now. I feel sick to my tanks," Chromia stated, clutching at her abdomen. Elita nodded wearily, flashbacks of the night where Chromia had first discovered the energon sweets. The femme had consumed an entire bag by herself...and her tanks rejected the contents.

"If you feel the sudden urge to empty your tanks, please try to make it to the waste receptacle this time?"

"How about I do even better? How about I hold it until I get into your room and I purge in your lovely flower vase?"

"I will kill you, Chromia-"

"Go take it up the exhaust, femme!"

"Go interface with a magnet!"

"Short circuited mother board!"

"Scrap heap!"

"At least I don't have one foot _in_ the scrap heap!"

"Defrag your hard drive!"

"Defrag your _aft_!"

"What about my aft, Elita?!"

"That's right!"

A pillow came flying out of nowhere and pegged Elita in the side of the head. Elita yelped and clutched at her head, all pretenses of acting like a lady gone as she tried to assess the damage to her head.

"Oh, you're going to die now, Chromi!"

"Don't call me that, LITA!"

"Thunder thighs!"

A yell of rage came from behind the couch. Chromia was very sensitive about her body. She was one of the curvier femmes. Her body was designed for strength and carrying weapons, not speed and dexterity like the other femmes.

"At least I have a chassis!"

"At least mine doesn't knock vases over!"

"You said you weren't going to say anything else about that!"

"Too bad, I've changed my mind!"

"Alright, I'll play your game! Optimus, did you know that Elita's never-"

Elita had leapt over the couch and tackled her friend. One hand was over Chromia's mouth, the other had a large blunt object in it, raised above her head. Elita's optics sparkled dangerously as the femme crouched on Chromia's abdomen, her intakes heaving at the sudden exertion.

"One more word, Chromia, and I'll shove this so far up your exhaust the medic won't be able to find it!"

"Only if you twist it a little on the way in," Chromia quipped, leering up at Elita. Elita shuddered in disgust. Neither of them noticed that the two males were still in the room – laughing their afts off at the mini-fight. Elita suddenly found herself airborne as Optimus picked her up off of her friend and set her down in a chair, his chest heaving as he tried desperately not to laugh.

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Hehehe. Sisterly love. :P


	4. Part Four: The Shooting Range

Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Transformers.

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Chromia lay in her berth, trying to recharge. She was going shooting with Ironhide tomorrow and she was _nervous_. She didn't know why she felt like she was about to purge her tanks. Then she flopped back onto her back, crossing her arms under her head. The cooling unit was humming quietly, pouring fresh air across her heated frame. Cybertron's four moons orbited one another, casting an eerie glow about the tools in her room. The first moon cast a pink glow about everything, only to be dimmed quickly by the twin asteroids that passed by next. The final moon passed by, leaving behind an eerie blue glow.

Chromia flipped over once more, staring at the chronometer on the small table beside her berth. It was too early in the morning to even consider getting out of her berth. She began reciting the initiation oath for the academy. That always put her to sleep.

Bright sunlight brought Chromia from her recharge cycle a joor and a half later. She groaned and covered her optics with her arm. Something important was supposed to happen today, she just couldn't remember what it was. A soft clicking noise at her door startled her. Elita was standing there, holding a rather large pillow over her head, trying desperately to sneak unnoticed into the room.

"Touch me with that pillow and I will kill you," Chromia muttered, curling back up.

"You're going to be late. Or have you already forgotten?"

"FRAG. Get out!"

"Wh-"

Elita was cut off in the middle of her sentence by Chromia, who shoved her out from room and slammed the door in her face. Elita only shrugged. Chromia was probably polishing her gun. Primus only knew how much the crazy femme loved that gun.

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Chromia was in her room, tossing things every which way. She was searching for something clean to polish her armor with. Tools went flying in one direction, parts in another. An old energon goodie bag appeared from underneath her bed, along with a cyber-spider and three old holo-texts.

_Where is that pit-slaggin', son of a glitchin'-oh. Hehehe._

Chromia sat up, shaking the bits of lint from her frame. The soft white rag was tightly clutched in one hand, the tin of wax in the other. She quickly ran the rag and wax over her body. Her armor went from dull to glowing softly, the lustrous metal living up to its namesake. The silver flecks mixed into the blue paint shone brilliantly. She giggled as she looked into the mirror, giddily admiring herself. She was so pretty! No wonder Elita spent hours polishing her armor…silly femme.

Chromia then cleaned her weapon thoroughly and packed it away. Her ammunition followed, along with a few credits and a bag of energon sweets. She giggled once more – she really did not need to be eating those. Like Elita had previously said, those goodies and her fuel tank did not like one another.

Chromia then opened her door quietly, trying to get past Elita without her noticing, but she failed. Elita and Optimus were both in the living room, along with Ironhide. Elita looked up at her. Her optics widened and her mouth components turned into a small 'o'. Then a slow smirk crossed her face.

"What are you all pretty for, Chromia," Elita purred, an evil smirk on her face.

"The same reason you spend six fraggin' cycles in front of the mirror every day," Chromia shot back, taking a seat next to Elita.

"Morning, you two," Chromia said, waving at them. Optimus grunted out a good morning while Ironhide nodded, holding back a sleepy rev.

"What about me, you loon?"

"No, I hope one of the zoo animals flings its waste at you," Chromia said sweetly. Elita made an angry sounding noise and raised her fist to hit Chromia, who ducked. She had had years of experience with Elita, she was so predictable-_**CLANG.**_ Okay, maybe not, Chromia thought, rubbing her aching arm.

"Alright, we need to be going," Chromia said, checking one of the chronometers on the wall. The other three in the room stood while Chromia fished the key card to the apartment door from one of the compartments in her wrists. She shooed them gently from the quarters, stating loudly that under no circumstance, were Elita and Optimus to be alone in the apartment.

"Same goes for you and Ironhide," Elita whispered quietly into her auditory receptor and winked cheekily at her, before disappearing around the corner to join the two mechs. A heated blush spread across her cheeks as she realized that Elita's statement was quite possibly correct.

-

-

-

Elita looked over at Chromia, worriedly. She had not said a word since they had left the apartment. Chromia was standing and staring at nothing, a thoughtful look on her face. Elita gently tapped her on the shoulder. No response. Then she waved her hand in front of her face. Still no answer. Finally, Elita shoved Chromia, sending the startled femme flying into Ironhide's arms. Chromia yelped and flailed wildly, scrabbling for something to grab onto. Her face met something quite solid with a loud thunk. It was Ironhide's chest. He gently helped her steady herself. She muttered a soft thank you, blushing and not being able to meet his optics. Then the femme shot Elita a positively evil glare, one that was evil enough to melt circuits.

Elita only winked and blew her a kiss. She received a rude gesture in return.

-

-

-

Chromia was thinking quietly. It was unusual for her to be so pensive or for her to be so quiet for so long. She didn't register a word that Elita or Optimus said. Ironhide was walking ahead with them, joking around and tossing out comments.

Primus forbid it, but was she starting to develop feelings for…Ironhide? Of all mechs, him? Why him? Was it his natural charm? Easy going smile? His love for weaponry? It most definitely wasn't his intelligence. He was loud and callous, sometimes even rude. So why did her Spark feel that way? Why was did it flutter whenever he brushed up against her?

A soft blush spread across her cheek plates, followed by a small smile.

Maybe he wasn't as bad as she thought. He was really annoying at times, but he was still charming…and he had a presence about him that other mechs didn't. He respected her in every way, going as far as to leave to make her more comfortable. Ironhide was strangely gentle for someone his size…and he was kind of cute. Just a little.

-

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-

Chromia was digging credits from her arm compartment to pay for her time in the shooting range. She dropped five onto the counter, blushing as she realized that she may have not had enough. Ah. There, at the very back, lay the other ten that she knew she'd shoved in there. However, when she moved to put the rest on the counter, Ironhide gently pushed the money back into her hands.

"Don't worry about it," he said dismissively, ignoring her weak protests. He then gently marched her into the shooting range.

"Thank you, Ironhide," she said softly, giving him a soft smile. Ironhide smiled back and they went into the room. It was quiet. They had gone in during the middle of the day. Everyone else was probably at work or at home, recharging. Ironhide took the pieces of his weapons from their subspace pockets, carefully putting the weapon together.

"So, what kinda shootin' ya do?"

"Hm? I'm good with long distance shooting. I'm trained as a sniper," she responded, putting her own weapon together. Ironhide waited patiently waited for her to put her weapon together. He watched as her small blue hands caressed the rifle, checking the safety latches and power supply. Ironhide gulped as her hands traveled up the barrel of the small rifle, rubbing away invisible flecks of dust. He immediately began thinking of all the things those tiny hands of hers could do to his body.

He shook his head clear of the thoughts, forcing his arousal down.

"You ready," he asked gruffly, his hand hovering over the start mechanism. Chromia nodded, her smile gone. Any silliness she may have had planned was tucked away, revealing a serious side of Chromia that he had never seen. She shouldered her weapon, peering through the sight.

Ironhide flicked the switch, picking up his large pistol. Holographic targets began zooming by before them. Ironhide waited a second before picking his target. He fired off several rounds, carefully picking off targets that were near him. Further down the range, Chromia made short work of the smaller targets.

"Nice shooting, Ironhide," she commented over the roar of their weapons.

"Thank you. You're not so bad yourself," he drawled, winking at her.

"What's that supposed to mean," she growled, firing off another series of rounds. He only chuckled.

"You and your tiny rifle have nothing on me and my guns," he purred quietly, obliterating a few of the targets. One optic ridge rose.

"You want to bet?"

"Of course. What are the stakes?"

"Hm. If I win…you relinquish your title as weapons master...If you win…you get to take me out to dinner," she purred, winking back at him. He looked surprised for a split second before a customary smirk crossed his face.

"I'm not getting anything out of that!"

"Either take it or leave it," she said, laughing heartily at him. He only rolled his optics. He wouldn't mind taking her out for dinner.

"Fine, I accept."

Chromia knew she was going to lose. Ironhide wasn't a weapons master for nothing – he knew how to shoot anything with a trigger, how to take any weapon apart and put it back together, and to disable a mech at thirty paces with one hand tied behind his back.

At the end of the two cycle competition, when they had both run out of ammunition, Ironhide declared himself the winner of this competition.

"Here, give me the cartons. I'll go recycle them," he said, holding his hands out. Chromia dumped the polymer containers into his hands, wiping cleaning solvent from her hands. She crinkled her nasal plates as she brushed the powder from her arms, wiping her hands on the counter she was leaning against. The doors to the massive room opened quietly and in came Ironhide. He leaned against the wall, waiting patiently for her to finish putting her things away.

"Thanks you," she said, giving him a soft smile.

"I won't be able to take you out until I get back from the academy," he said quietly.

"I _suppose_ I could wait," she said, grinning cheekily at him.

He only rolled his optics playfully. She slipped her hand into the bend of his arm, giving him a shy smile. With that, they left the shooting range. The bustling noise of the city outside was pleasant. They could hear vendors hawking their goods, the pitter patter of younglings running around and laughing, and the quiet chatter of their adult creators. Warm sunlight drifted down from the cloudless sky, bathing the city in golden light. The suns would set in about four hours. She was determined to enjoy the rest of the day with him.

Ironhide could barely keep his joy down. Here was the first femme that he'd ever been with that actually _enjoyed_ shooting! They slowly walked down the street, chatting about one thing or another. Chromia's optics lit up when they happened to pass over a certain candied energon stand. Ironhide followed her gaze and chuckled quietly.

"Are you hungry," he asked, a small smile on his face.

"Yes, my treat," she said. She checked both sides of the street before grabbing Ironhide's hand and pulling him across. Once they had made it safely across, she took his arm once more, leading him to the stand.

"Well, hello. How are you two doin' this fine afternoon?"

"We're doing quite well, thank you," Chromia said, peering through the clear glass case down at the sweet treats. There was a vast array of brightly colored candies and cakes. Her tanks rumbled quietly and she blushed in embarrassment. Finally she settled on her favorite.

"Ah, a sweet treat for a sweet lady?"

"Yes, I want that one, the red one – which one do you want, Ironhide," she asked, giggling quietly.

"The blue one."

The mech grinned at them and scooped the treats out into a bag. Folding the top of the bag over, he gave Chromia a short bow before turning to Ironhide.

"That'll be six credits, sir."

"Ah, ah. It's my treat," Chromia said, batting Ironhide's hands away. He had tried to pay for the candy, pulling money out of one of his wrist compartments. Digging out six credits, she plunked them down on the counter and grabbed the bag, eager to bite into one of the sweetened treats.

"Good bye and thank you," the mech called out, putting the credits in the money drawer. He then watched after the laughing couple, a happy bubble rising in his chest. To be young and in love again…

-

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-

Ironhide was confused. Had someone switched Chromia's personality matrices around on him? Normally she was every bit as spunky and rough as he, but she was so…_mellow_ and polite. Never mind, he thought to himself as they settled onto a bench nearby. Chromia sat close by him, nibbling on the candy. She ate the candy in four bites.

"Were you hungry, Chromia," he asked teasingly, watching as the femme licked the remains from her fingers. Then she noticed that he still had half of his left. Then he popped the rest of it into his mouth, watching as her face drooped.

"oo 'an 'ave some," he mumbled around a mouthful of candy, offering her a bit of the chewed up candy.

"No, thank you," she muttered quietly, shuddering in disgust. He chuckled before swallowing the rest of the processed food. Chromia then perked up, looking across the plaza. Then she counted her credits mentally. Slag. She was short some…she wouldn't be able to pay for his ticket, too. Ironhide watched her curiously.

"What?"

"Do you want to go to the gardens? I hear they have a new exhibit," she said excitedly, remembering the brightly colored posters she had seen.

"I'd love to, I've never been inside," he admitted. She gasped dramatically and grabbed his hands, pulling him up from the bench.

"How could you not have ever been inside? It should be _punishable_ to not go in there!"

She immediately began pulling him toward the towering glass greenhouse, chattering excitedly about the attractions within.

-

-

-

Gee, I wonder what happens next?


	5. Part Five: The Garden

Chapter Five:

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers in any way, shape, or form.

Yeah, so I've neglected this story and quite a few others…

Ironhide has some serious ball bearings and Chromia is easily distracted. :)

* * *

Chromia was chattering excitedly, tugging Ironhide along as they dodged other mechs and femmes, younglings, and the occasional vendor. Ironhide let an amused smile cross his face. Chromia was downright adorable when she was excited – the way her optics shone, the smile on her face, and her soft laughter. He was brought out of his reverie at the sound of soft conversing.

"Well, hello there, Chromia. Back so soon," asked the elderly mech in the ticket booth. Chromia nodded, grinning at him.

"Yes, I am," Chromia said sweetly. The elderly mech took her hand in his and patted it gently, smiling at her.

"Good, good. And who is this, Chromia? Another friend of yours," the wizened mech asked, squinting up at Ironhide. Ironhide nodded, but Chromia surprised them both.

"Not exactly, we're here on a date," she said. Then she realized what she said and her optics widened – she hadn't meant to say that aloud! Ironhide cocked his head – did she really say that? It wasn't like he minded or anything, but the femme had specifically sworn off mechs. After an astrosecond, Ironhide dared to wrap one hand around her waist. She offered no resistance as he gently pulled her against his side. The vendor nodded, giving her a sly wink.

"Remember what I told you, little lady," the mech said, waggling a finger in her face. Chromia laughed nervously, avoiding optic contact with Ironhide. She began to dig through her wrist compartment. So engrossed and distracted was she that she did not notice Ironhide slyly slip the mech the payment and a wink.

"Don't worry about it, Chromia. Just go on in," the old mech said, winking at her and waving her through the gate, "Enjoy your date."

"But…"

"No, Chromia. Don't argue with your elders," the mech said, waving her a bit more impatiently, "Go on in."

Chromia looked as though she was preparing for an argument, but Ironhide's warm hand gently pulling her from the ticket booth silenced her. She shot the mech a look that promised a verbal lashing later on. The mech only chuckled and turned to the next customer. Chromia gazed up at Ironhide nervously. The mech was observing some sort of tree-like plant intensely. She looked away quickly when he leaned back from examining the plant. The silence that followed was a bit awkward.

"So…a date, huh?"

Chromia winced slightly. She had been praying that he didn't ask.

"Yes," she finally said, pushing away her embarrassment.

"Really now," he drawled out, tugging her closer. She squeaked when she found herself squashed between his arm and torso.

"Yes. Now let me go," she said, her voice a bit muffled by the thick armor pressed against her face.

"I never asked you on a date," he continued, loosening his grip on her. Chromia shoved him away gently, rubbing at the side of her face. Then she glared at him.

"I say it's a date and what I say goes. Now be quiet and look at the flowers," Chromia said, crossing her arms over her chest plate.

"Yes, ma'am," he shot back, giving her a slow smirk that sent her spark into a fluttering frenzy. After a second, though, he wrapped his arm around her once more. Chromia gave him an acidic glare, but leaned into him, sighing gently. The various species of plants loomed overhead, blocking out most of the sunlight. Ironhide checked his internal chronometer. They had less than an hour before darkness fell. The rest of that hour passed by quickly as they discovered new plants and various small insects tucked away in secret pockets of forest land. The path was illuminated by the soft blue glow of guide lights. The trees sighed softly in the artificial breeze, making Chromia shiver in the eeriness of the scene. Ironhide drew her closer instinctively, trying to shield her from the cold.

Chromia's fuel pump was racing. Normally, any mech that dared to get so 'friendly' with her usually ended up with something unpleasant shoved in his exhaust. Ironhide was different, though. How, she did not know. Her spark fluttered happily when he drew her closer and she shivered again, but for completely different reasons. She could feel the restrained power in his gentle touch, the obvious and delicious masculinity that radiated from him. Chromia had never really registered him as more than Prime's friend, but now that his arm was wrapped around her, and they were alone in the miniature forest…her computing center was running rampant of ways to see if the rumors of his superior interface skills were as true as they were common. His fingers flexed a little on her waist, making her shudder again.

"Are you cold, Chromia," he asked, glancing down at her. He was surprised by how dark her optics were. He hurriedly grabbed one of her hands and drew her closer.

"Are you low on energy," he asked, placing a hand on her cheek, "Your temperature is elevated. Slaggit, I knew I shouldn't have dragged you out here."

"I'm fine, Ironhide. I'm just cold," she said, and as an afterthought, hurriedly added, "I'm kind of hungry, though."

Ironhide nodded, a worried frown creasing his features. Chromia mentally sighed in relief. If it were up to her, they'd be back at the apartment and in her berth by now.

"I think we should leave…I don't want you to be ill."

"I'm fine, Ironhide. Let's go enjoy that exhibit and we'll leave right after that, alright?"

Ironhide bit his lower lip before nodding slowly.

"Alright, but we're leaving right afterwards," he said, rubbing her arm softly. Chromia managed to repress the shudder that threatened to run down her spinal relay. Ironhide was faring no better than she was.

The exhibit was made up of imported bioluminescent plants and organic creatures. Since these plants were so delicate, they were contained in a mirrored room. They entered the exhibit. Chromia was unable to hold back her exclamation of surprise and wonderment. There were strange vines covered in glowing white flowers, trees with golden leaves, and innumerable types of flowers. Odd, many legged-creatures scurried through the vegetation, their coats and eyes aglow. Chromia gazed around the room, her optics wide with delight.

Ironhide smiled at the look of astonishment on Chromia's face – he was just as intrigued as she was, but his computing center was more interested in the femme than the plants and creatures – and he gently pulled her closer. She offered no resistance and even leaned her head against his shoulder, mesmerized by their surroundings.

Ironhide bit his lower lip. Would he really be able to pull off what he was about to do without having his interface port blown to smithereens? Chromia shifted slightly and gave him a soft smile. Ironhide steeled himself, he could do this! Ironhide gently pulled her to his chest, stroking her cheek plate with his thumb.

Chromia allowed him to pull her closer, almost close enough for her to bury her face into his neck. She wondered vaguely if he really was about to do what he was planning. If he was, he had some serious ball bearings. Ironhide caressed her back gently and nervously, praying that Chromia was subdued enough for him to try and woo her.

Chromia shot him a slightly questioning look, her mouth upturned into the slightest of knowing smirks.

_Frag it all to Pit – If I die tonight, at least I'll get a kiss from a pretty femme_, Ironhide thought, shuttering his optics and leaning closer. Chromia giggled quietly and put one finger on his lips.

"What makes you think I kiss on a first date," she said sternly, watching as he drew back. Ironhide smirked at her suddenly.

"This isn't a first date, Chromia," he fairly purred, "Remember when I took you out for dinner with Elita and Optimus?"

Chromia quirked one optic ridge at him.

"I never said that was a date," she shot back, planting her hands on his chest.

"But I say it was," he said, ignoring her good natured protest.

And with that, he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her.


End file.
